Welcome to My World
by ilovetvalot
Summary: She mystifies him. And he finds that he rather likes it - perhaps, more than he should.


**Hello, all! I'm new to the Doctor's world. I hope I do him - and Clara - justice! Thank you for reading!**

**Welcome To My World**

I've come to the conclusion that I'll never quite know entirely what to make of the mystifying woman before me. Studying the young lady now, her eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar with a small – but endearing – stream of drool leaking from the side of her bow mouth, I've come to realize this.

The woman is an odd blend of qualities that, taken singularly, would drive me to unrelenting madness. When considered as a whole, however, the combination's effect on my sensibilities is, in all honesty, rather stunning.

I can recognize instinctively that I've quite never met another person like her in my life. And I have lived a _very _long time.

Sometimes, I wonder if I haven't lived too long. Until Clara Oswald and her blend of confounding qualities, I had become terrifyingly apathetic to and unfazed by the miseries surrounding me. I very frankly had become disenchanted with everyone and everything that crossed my path. But the day she stumbled into my world, everything changed, and I emerged from self imposed emotional exile. It was like what I can only describe as an awakening from a very long, very restless nap. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I was – dare I think it – even to myself?

_Alive?_

Yes, alive! And I'm excited by the possibilities of all that could come next. What new adventure would we face together? What new planet or galaxy would we save this week? What new alien delicacy could I impress her with? Will she finally allow me to teach her how to steer the TARDIS?

Yes, indeed, Clara has brought life and light back into what had become – until very recently – a very dusty, and often musty existence. Suddenly, I'm reinvigorated… reenergized and ready to pick up whatever gauntlet the Universe throws into my path. It's a shocking change in my character to say the least, and I hold _her_ directly responsible for my change of heart.

I don't believe she cares. You see, I _am_ her adventure in as much as she is mine.

Eyes narrowing on her heart shaped face, I tried to pinpoint what exactly it was about her that captivated me. Certainly, she was a pretty bit of baggage, all full red lips and twinkling doe eyes. Fiercely independent and infuriatingly stubborn, she virtually exudes confidence. Well, most of the time, anyway. Honestly, unless a person takes the time to look deeper – and I definitely have dug deep into the psyche that defines Clara Oswald – one might miss the fact that she also is often cloaked in a veil of vulnerability that she hides so well that sometimes even I doubt it is there.

But it's there. It exists.

I've seen it repeatedly. Perhaps only in brief flashes of insight, but _real_ moments, nonetheless.

Whenever she talks of her mother and gets that faraway look in those gorgeous big eyes of hers, I see it. Whenever she bends over to speak to a child and her lips lift into one of those beguiling, bewitching smiles ever to grace a woman's lips, I see it.

Of course, I see it. I pay attention to details others miss. I'm quite superior in that way.

Add all those components to her quick wit and fierce loyalty, and she is, in a word, perfect.

It is true; her past is murky at best and I am still trying to sort out how she could actually even _be _here with me. Blimey, it's all really rather confusing, isn't it? There is, however, _one_ thing of which I am desperately sure.

I do not _ever _want to allow her to leave me. And this is, in and of itself, completely _ridiculous._

The rationally clinical side of my mind knows and accepts that everything ends. After all, for every beginning there is, conversely, an ending. It's a natural law. And eventually, she will end, too. I've learned the hard way that humans are fragile in this way. Unfortunately, I also have a sneaking suspicion that Clara's end just might break both of my beating hearts.

"You're staring at me," she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep.

"I'm not," I automatically deny, unpleased that I've been caught, or _busted _as Clara likes to call it. Usually, I'm much more stealthy than this. It's just further evidence of Clara's influence over me.

"You _are, _Doctor" she counters irritably, cracking one eyelid to glare at me and make a dissatisfied, and decidedly unladylike snort. I've learned that Clara is _not_ a morning person.

"Why should it bother you if I am?" I ask her in what I hope seems a casual tone. I'm still working on the subtle nuances of conversation. It's actually a very difficult skill to master.

"It's rude," she replies, opening both of her eyes only to roll them at me.

"Is it?" I query innocently, well aware that I'm leaving her patience in tatters. A Doctor had to have some form of entertainment, didn't he?

"Yes," she returns impatiently, pushing her blanket back from her body and sitting up on the cot I procured for her. She'd been excessively insistent that she needed a bed if she was to travel with me. "What I want to know is _why_ you're looking at me," she comments, narrowing those intelligent eyes at me. My Clara is no man's fool. Honesty is often the best alternative when dealing with her – especially in the mornings. Otherwise, I often begin my day with a rather unflattering bruise on some portion of my anatomy.

"I was trying to ferret out the reason that you intrigue me so."

There! As I said….honesty is often the best solution when entering into any form of dialogue with Clara.

"Did you come up with any answers?" she asks curiously, batting her long eyelashes at me.

"No." I shake my head regretfully.

"Buggar," she says, with a little curl of her nose. I'm still not certain how she does that. Noses shouldn't curl. But hers most certainly does…and adorably so. "Frustrating isn't it? Asking a question and getting no answer," she says, rising from the bed and shrugging on a soft looking robe.

"Quite so," I agree with probably more alacrity than I should. I must be careful with my emotions. Clara is almost as insightful as I am. Allowing her to see too much could prove fatal to both of us.

"Welcome to my world, Doctor," she says with a tart bite in her tone, flashing me one of those brilliant smiles of hers as she pads past me on bare feet.

Watching her disappear into the TARDIS' corridor with a decided bounce in her attractive step, I smile.

I like _her _world, I think to myself. I like it very much, indeed.

I should very much hope that I may stay in it with her for a very long time.

**THE END**


End file.
